A Shadow of Grey
by Laqualassiel
Summary: There was a reason they called her Grey, and it wasn't because the High Council felt like being poetic.


No one could ever claim the main training salle wasn't an impressive room.

Light shone from every corner of the room, bathing the area in a warm luminance not dissimilar to that of a summer sun on a cloudless afternoon, gleaming off the polished white stone of the circular hall. Imposing columns drew the eye upwards, where harsh lines of black outlined seven fierce creatures, seeming as though they'd been burned into the stone itself.

Conversation echoed from the many observation balconies extending around the room, buzzing with an undercurrent of anticipation, growing in volume with each sentient that joined. Nerf hide boots clicked against the floors with each step and russet cloth rustled with a Jedi Padawan's excited gesture.

 _A young girl stared at the room in front of her. Columns stretched seemingly endlessly towards the ceiling and the giant statues of notable Jedi lining the entryway to the Jedi Temple made her small form seem almost inconsequential in comparison._

 _Rough chuckles drew her attention back to ground level. "To see for the first time, surprising, is it not?"_

 _She nodded shyly, embarrassed at being caught staring by the Grand Master himself. "It looks like a place of worship." She said. Back home, such grand architecture was reserved only for the gods._

 _Yoda harrumphed. "A place of learning, the Temple is, young one. Nothing more, nothing less."_

Atisa refrained from scowling. A place of learning it may be, but the Order certainly wasn't discouraging the look of a _temple._

Her sharp ears caught the muted footsteps of well worn boots entering the the balcony before a familiar presence brushed up against her Force-sense. She kepter her gaze forward as long even strides with the surety that came with decades of combat training halted at the railing on her right.

"I hear you've been grounded."" Straightforward; no dancing around the subject, thank the Force.

"That's what happens when you lose an eye." Atisa replied. "Or any major body part." Master Vokara Che had grounded Atisa for a minimum of one month while Atisa adjusted. Fortunately, unlike those who lose an arm or leg, Atisa was not subject to the arduous process of being fitted for and acclimatizing to a cybernetic prosthetic.

She had declined the offer of a cybernetic replacement, instead opting for a simple polished durasteel prosthetic that was in reality little more than a placeholder in her eye socket.

"What happened?" It was disconcerting, having something originate from her blind spot. Mace's presence was unwavering, reassuring her that the Korun Jedi would cover her new weakness, but it would take time before Atisa was comfortable having anything but a wall at her right.

Not that she expected an attack while in the Temple, but she'd been instilled with a sense of caution from her Sentinel work.

"Some _cheeka_ threw acid in my face." She'd caught most of it on her arm, but the acid had been strong enough to require immediate medical attention and her target escaped. Fortunately, Atisa had enough information to give to the Order so other Sentinels could continue the hunt. "Skilled as she is, Master Che can't regrow an eye from so little."

Master Che ensured there would be no permanent scarring of Atisa's face or arm, but the Twi'lek Jedi Master could do nothing for Atisa's eye, or the part of Atisa's eyebrow or hair that'd been eaten away.

That hardly bothered Atisa. Her face was intact, as was her arm, and she would return to missions soon enough.

Mace wasn't fooled by Atisa's light tone. "How are you coping with the loss of sight?"

"Partial." Atisa corrected automatically. She turned so she could look at her oldest friend. Mace's mental shields were furled tight, offering no hint of his thoughts or emotions beyond the serene cloak all Masters wore like a second skin. But Atisa saw the slight tension in the line of his shoulders; the way he stood as though carved from stone.

He'd never show it in public, but Atisa knew underneath his stoic exterior, Mace worried like a mother hawk bat.

Grudgingly, Atisa admitted to herself that, in her case, his concern was not unfounded. For a Jedi, her connection to the Force was extremely limited. She relied heavily on her regular senses where other Jedi could reach out into the Force; what was a symphony to them was a mere whisper on a breeze to her.

"I'll spar with the other Knights and Masters." Atisa assured Mace. "Master Drallig is always looking for someone to assist in demonstrations, so I may take him up on that when I recover more."

At least, when she no longer felt like a Padawan going through the katas for the first time.

Mace nodded, satisfied. "Don't overwork yourself." He added.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Of course, _Master._ " He was worse than Master Che, she swore.

The Force danced with her amusement, and Mace shot her a disgruntled glare that hadn't worked on her since they were Initiates. "A title of respect shouldn't be used so mockingly, _Knight Lorrand._ "

Straight faced, Atisa bowed her head slightly in deference. "I respect you plenty, Master Windu." A sly grin. "Out of curiosity, does Master Yoda still whack you with that gimer stick of his?"

No answer came from him, and Atisa glanced in his direction.

 _I will_ not _mention that he still pouts like an Ewok._

… _Aw heck, why not -_

"Good to see you are recovering, it is."

 _Sweet mother of chaos!_

Atisa jerked in surprise at the low growl behind her, whirling to see Master Yoda sitting in his floating chair, looking inordinately pleased with himself. _It should be a crime,_ Atisa thought, _for the Grand Master of such an austere Order to be that smug._ Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, the small woman allowed her aggravation to flow into the Force, along with her vast array of swears and curses that she had most certainly not learned within the revered halls of the Jedi Temple.

Mace offered the diminutive Jedi Master a short bow. "Master Yoda." Atisa followed with her own bow.

"Thinking of taking a Padawan, are you, Knight Atisailai?" Yoda asked, serenely gliding over to the railing.

Atisa hid a grimace at the use of her full given name. "Perhaps." While she may make an offer again this year, ultimately, it was up to the Initiate to accept.

"How many years have you been looking for an apprentice?" Mace asked.

There was no malice in the question, only curiosity. Atisa released a short sigh. "Six." She shrugged. "Compared to renowned Masters like Master Bulq, I don't have the reputation." It was Sora Bulq who was credited with creating Vaapad alongside Mace, and as Master Bulq had so kindly pointed out two years ago, Atisa was a no-name Jedi Knight compared to him.

 _As if I hadn't already figured that out._

"See clearly, your Padawan will." Yoda said firmly.

His words rang with the weight of prophecy, and Atisa felt something unpleasant settle in her stomach. She really disliked visions.

In the brief lull, Atisa let her eye wander around the other balconies. She recognized several Jedi Knights and Masters present, including members of the Jedi High Council, Masters Plo Koon, Eeth Koth, and Sifo-Dyas. "There are a lot of observers this year."

Yoda narrowed his eyes. "Hmm. Immense potential, these Initiates have."

Anticipation in the gesture of a hand. Interest from the position of a posture. "Many Knights and Masters here are considering taking on a Padawan." Atisa said, dragging her eye from where Masters Micah Giiett and Saesee Tin stood, watching as eagerly as serene Masters could.

Mace's eyebrows rose in amazement. "Your kinetic communication never ceases to impress."

"It has it's uses." Atisa replied. She'd never see the finer workings of the Force in Shatterpoints like Mace could. To be honest, she preferred her people's nonverbal communication. It was a skill that she could apply in far more situations than the variety of Force powers unaccessible to her.

The doors to the training salle opened, and the Rutian Twi'lek Master Anoon Bondara stepped onto the salle floor. Two lines of ten younglings, garbed in the white tunics of an Initiate, tread along each side of the floor until the lines met up at the opposite side. As one, the twenty Initiates settled onto the thin mats where they would wait for their turn. Hopefully the matches would not take so long as Atisa's had. Those mats were far from comfortable.

For the majority of the Initiates, even a Senior Padawan would be able to see the nervousness and excitement behind their attempted masks of calm. A few hid their emotions better, but not by far.

Sudden movement registered in her peripheral. A Human girl, younger than most of the other Initiates, with unusual dark red hair, somewhere between the color of a Nubian rose and a glass of that particular vintage Alderaanian wine Master Dooku favored. The Initiate had glanced their way, almost as if she was startled, but she looked away just as quickly, much more nervous than before. Atisa smiled wryly. No doubt the presence of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order himself was enough to unsettle the unsuspecting Initiate.

Silence fell as the observers turned their attention to the Initiates below. Master Bondara barked out two names, and the spars began.

Atisa carefully watched each spar, noting the names that showed potential, and not simply in their lightsaber forms. A Human Initiate, Darsha Assant, used mostly Form I against her Form IV wielding opponent, but switched effortlessly into what she knew of Form III when necessary. The spar would end when Initiate Assant took advantage of the opening created when her opponent stumbled in exhaustion.

A female Mirialan and male Dressellian also displayed high potential in Soresu, but another Human, Initiate Muln, switched between flawless basics of Form I and the basics of Form V.

"Master Bondara has been drilling the Initiates." Atisa commented. She hadn't seen such proficiency of Form I in Initiates in years.

"Battle Master Drallig demands a higher level of skill in Form I," Mace replied, referring to the Jedi Master who oversaw all the lightsaber instructors, "before he allows the Initiates to further their studies in another Form."

Atisa nodded, tracing the Form IV leap of Initiate Rahn. When the boy grew, no doubt that would be a powerful strike.

"Is there anyone you are interested in?" Mace asked.

She frowned. Master Yoda was right; the Initiates so far all had immense potential, and she doubted more than a couple would not be asked for apprenticeships. She shook her head, feeling rather confused and not liking the feeling. "I can't explain it, Mace. They just seem to be _missing_ something."

Yoda chuckled, the little green troll finding amusement in her struggle. "Know your Padawan when you see them, you will."

 _Because that's not ambiguous at all._

She turned her attention back to the current spar as an auburn haired Human executed a flawless Ataru flip over his opponent's strike, and scored the finishing blow across the shoulder.

The two Initiates bowed to each other, but unlike every Initiate before, the auburn haired Initiate did not glance up at the watching Masters. Instead he looked to the red haired Human girl. The two shared excited smiles.

Atisa felt her brows raise. _That boy is still an Initiate?_ "I'm impressed. He's remarkably restrained." She said. "I'll be shocked if no one asks after him."

Yoda hummed. "Decided on Obi-Wan's Master, the Force already has." Atisa heard Mace shift uncomfortably, and frowned. She didn't understand; if the Force had already paired Obi-Wan with his Master what was the problem?

Unless Obi-Wan's Master hadn't chosen Obi-Wan.

She scowled. One couldn't force a Padawan upon a Master!

A lull in the excited chatter called her attention back to the training salle floor. "Initiate Bruck Chun!" Master Bondara called. "Initiate Yren Nal!" Her eyes narrowed. There was an unnaturalness to Master Bondara's posture, almost as if he was forcing his body not to stiffen.

Bruck Chun stood with smirk, icy blue eyes affixed on the dark red haired Yren Nal. He murmured something to the boy who'd just lost to Initiate Kenobi before striding out to the center of the salle.

Initiate Nal offered a reassuring smile to Initiates Kenobi and Muln, both males having expressions of concern openly displayed at the announcement of Initiate Nal's opponent. She crossed the floor, but where Initiate Chun's gait had oozed confidence in every step, Initiate Nal's steps were softer, centered with a calm assurance.

From the way both Initiates were looking at each other, Atisa didn't need her mastery of nonverbal communication to know that they were not on good terms.

They bowed to each other, Chun's shallow and mocking, Nal's deep and respectful.

 _Curious._ Why would Nal offer respect to someone she did not hold in such regard?

Nal straightened, and Atisa only just caught the glance thrown in their direction. A smile curved Atisa's lips. Nal disguised her bow to the Grandmaster as a bow to Chun. _Sneaky girl._

 _Master Tahl would love you._

Nal settled into a Shii-Cho ready stance. Atisa leaned forwards in interest. What other Form would Initiate Nal incorporate into her combat style, or would she be the first to fight only with Form I?

Initiate Chun's Ataru ready stance wasn't incorrect per say, but it was certainly not as good as it should have been, judging from Master Bondara's disapproving frown. In fact, one could say it almost appeared lazy, as if he had already won the spar.

 _He's arrogant._

Despite his arrogance, Chun leapt forward with the acrobatic grace of Form IV, opening the spar with a streak of blue fire that immediately put Nal on the defense as she directed the attack down and away, leaving Chun's side wide open.

But Nal ignored the opening, blade moving to deflect Chun's sudden attack that would have scored across her chest had she tried to take advantage of that seeming hole in Chun's defense.

Atisa watched in fascination as the spar continued. Chun, she had to admit, was very good. Forms IV and V flowed around him like water and fire, as he alternated between fast, fluid acrobatics and fierce, crushing blows. The younger Initiate was not giving his opponent the chance to attack.

Even on the defensive, Nal's skills could not be denied. Flawless footwork gave her the foundation she needed to deflect the blows of Ataru, and allowed her to dance around a vicious Falling Avalanche Djem So attack.

"She has the mindset of Soresu." Mace commented. Atisa grunted noncommittally. Perhaps, but as Chun scored a burn across Nal's forearm, she mused that the girl didn't have the skill to back that mindset only using Form I. Form I didn't have the ability to go head to head with the more advanced lightsaber forms unless one was a Shii-Cho master. It simply wasn't designed for that.

Chun deliberately left an opening in his defense. Again, Nal failed to take advantage of it, spinning away from the following overhand chop. Atisa blinked as a thought struck her.

 _Is she failing to attack the openings, or does Nal realize that they're fake?_

As Nal continued to deflect and evade Chun's blows, the white haired Initiate grew increasingly frustrated. He began to use less of Form IV and more of Form V, but Nal easily dodged Chun's growing haphazard attacks.

"Fight back already!" Chun finally hollered, anger twisting his features. "Or can't you do anything without Oafy-Wan holding your hand?"

Murmurs of disapproval rippled through the audience, and she could feel Mace practically radiating displeasure. Initiate Kenobi scowled fiercely, and Initiate Muln muttered something under his breath that earned him a sharp look from the Dressellian sitting next to him.

Initiate Nal did not react.

No change of expression, not even a hint in her body language indicating that Chun's words had even registered with her.

Atisa reached for the Force, allowing it to sharpen her vision akin to the vultures of her homeworld. "Initiate Nal is very calm." She heard Mace say as she focused on the girl. Chun approached with another series of attacks, and Nal blocked automatically, her eyes curiously unfocused, even as she avoided another false opening in Chun's defense.

Atisa abruptly straightened, drawing the attention of both Mace and Yoda. She ignored them, stretching her Force-sense as far as she could. If she was right…

The Force _sang_ as it swirled around Initiate Nal as though she were the nexus between the Force and the rest of the galaxy. Golden motes, with the youngling the eye of the storm.

 _A hurricane would be a more accurate description,_ Atisa thought. _I've seen Jedi Knights who don't have such a connection with the Force!_

"She hasn't grounded herself." Atisa murmured to Mace's questioning stare of _what's wrong?_ Every so slowly, the Force was converging on Nal. The Initiate's movements faltered as she struggled not to be overwhelmed by the Force on one side or Chun on the other. Atisa wasn't entirely sure Nal was still in the present; she'd seen that particular unfocused look in Master Tahl on the rare occasion the Noorian was in the throes of a vision.

Nal turned to late, and Chun scored a second burn across Nal's thigh. It was nothing more than a graze, but it brought the girl forcefully back to the present, and she stumbled backwards to avoid a swing of blue that would have ended the spar there.

Yoda was speaking, and Atisa listened with half an ear. "Strong in the Force, Initiate Nal is. Distinguish between Living and Unifying she does not."

Mace's response was as incredulous as Atisa had ever heard him. "Such a thing is unprecedented!"

Nal was losing focus again. Disappointment rippled through the audience around her, and Atisa picked out the resignation in the postures of Master Bondara and the other Initiates. _So this isn't an uncommon occurrence._

Seeing his victory close at hand, Chun lunged at Nal, his lightsaber a blur of cerulean with all the power of a krayt dragon. Nal brought her lightsaber up, desperately fending off each blow even as Chun battered down her defense.

She was slowing down. Resigned, perhaps, to what she had come to expect as the inevitable ending.

This couldn't be everything Nal had. Atisa gripped the railing tightly, silently urging Nal to _focus._

Chun raised his lightsaber high with two hands, preparing another Falling Avalanche to end the spar.

 _Or are you giving up?_

The Force shifted. Amber eyes flashed like the crystals of a Sentinel's blade.

And blue fell, crashing down with all the strength of a tsunami.

To strike nothing.

Nal twisted away, bringing her blade of green around into a _shiak_ strike that forced Chun to backpedal, nearly stumbling in his haste. Nal matched him step for step, preventing him from recovering his balance. Chun swung wildly in hopes of buying space, and Nal blocked with enough power that she forced his blade away and scored a long burn across his shoulder.

Atisa was no longer the only one leaning forwards. Knights and Masters around the room watched with surprise and undisguised interest as Nal wove around Chun's failing offense, feinting a block only to evade at the last moment. Chun stumbled off balance, and Nal slashed another burn across his weapon wrist in a _cho mai_ mark.

The Force stirred, praise and disapproval from the watching Masters mixing like warm and cold. The mark of contact had been perfectly executed, none could deny that, and it was considered an acceptable mark to use in most circumstances. But to think that a youngling was capable of dismembering a peer was unsettling.

Never mind the fact that with training lightsabers, it was impossible to use the _sun djem_ mark unless you physically ripped your opponent's weapon from their hands. Training lightsabers didn't have the power to cut through a cloth, much less durasteel, and for good reason. But Form I didn't have any other disarming moves until one started the advanced katas, and even then it required a certain mastery to be effective against Forms such as Ataru and Djem So.

Chun's own skill could not be ignored however. Panic made itself known in every screaming movement, in the flurry of strikes forcing Nal back, in the pressed attacks Nal strained to defend against.

No one could look away. The spar reminded Atisa of the pounding sea upon the surf, an intensity that seemed better suited for a duel than a mere training exercise.

On the edge of the sparring ring, Bondara stood tensed, flickering between the two Initiates, debating whether to end the spar before it could get out of hand.

His concern became unnecessary. Nal brought her training 'saber around to counter Chun's wild swing. The deflected blow careened downwards and seared across Nal's shin.

Immediately, Bondara's voice cut through the air, announcing the end of the spar in Chun's favor. Around the salle, Jedi leaned back from the railings. Shoulders slumped, and murmurs carried hushed tones of disappointment. Atisa paid only half an ear to the words. Her attention was on Initiate Nal, as she once more disguised her bow to the Grand Master as a bow to Chun.

The girl hesitated for a moment and her eyes flicked up towards them. But just as quickly Nal ducked her head and hurried back to her place on the floor, sparing a smile for Initiates Kenobi, Muln, and Reeft.

Mace's wary voice claimed Atisa's attention. "I'm never sure if I should be concerned or pleased to see that particular look of satisfaction on your face, Atisa."

Atisa smiled, shifting back from the railing. "Initiate Nal lost on purpose." She'd seen how the angle of Nal's blade had shifted ever so slightly, angling Chun's lightsaber towards her shin instead of deflecting it safely past.

Mace turned towards her in carefully masked confusion, but Yoda chuckled. "Gone too far, the spar had. Knew this, Initiate Nal did. On her terms, she finished." He glanced at Atisa, smug. "Caught you attention, young Nal has."

"Indeed." Atisa freely admitted. It appeared she would be making an offer after all.


End file.
